


the sun is up and I'm going blind

by impossibletruths



Series: cr femslash fest 2k17 [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Background Kimallura, F/F, Femslash February, Life Advice From Resident Lesbian Kima of Vord, Self-Discovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossibletruths/pseuds/impossibletruths
Summary: Keyleth can't stop watching Pike. Kima has some answers. Being in love is confusing, you know.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [cr femslash fest](http://eponymous-rose.tumblr.com/post/157445484307/critical-role-femslash-fest) on tumblr. title from "delilah" by florence + the machine
> 
> find me on tumblr at [teammompike](http://teammompike.tumblr.com)

The third time she catches herself staring, she goes in search of Kima.

It’s not that she thinks Kima will know, per se, except she kind of does, mostly because she’s seen the way Kima looks at Allura when Allura isn’t quite paying attention. Keyleth may have her hang ups with reading people, and with social interactions in general, but she’s awkward, not _blind_. Besides, Kima’s about as subtle as a brick through a window. Which Keyleth appreciates.

It’s nice to have role models who really get you, y’know?

And, anyways. Sure, she and Kima are different as the day and night, but they’ve also seen each other at their worst and gotten over it. It’s not some big, grand sort of bond or anything, nothing fairytale or storybook about it, but any good gardener can tell you it just takes a little extra awareness to know your garden, and Kima’s not a garden but they’ve kept an eye on each other long enough to see the blooms and bruised leaves both and this metaphor is getting away from her but. Anyways.

The point is, she finds herself staring at Pike as she passes by the open doors of the almost-finished temple at the edge of town, feet slowing to a stop as she watches the small woman kneel at the altar, paltry sunlight cutting through where the roof is not quite finished, catching against the stained glass that has been carefully set into the open windows some time during their absence. The color catches on Pike’s hair, turns the white to a rainbow of color. There is such stillness within, such silent reverence, and Keyleth feels almost guilty for watching, except that it’s Pike, who is kind and good and a little rough around the edges and brighter than the brazier burning upon the altar, and Keyleth knows Pike wouldn’t be angry to catch her staring, knows Pike would go so far as to invite her in. And Keyleth would refuse, would fall back into her distrust and wariness, except that this is Pike, who does not push or demand, only opens her hand, and Keyleth––

Keyleth drags herself away from the scene, the quiet and the light and the reverence, and turns her feet away from the apothecary to make a beeline for the training grounds.

* * *

Alone in the middle of the courtyard ringed by the long, low barracks of the fledgling garrison––less of a necessity and more of a safeguard, Keyleth hopes, now that the fear of the dragons does not loom over them like thunderheads––Kima beats the shit out of a training dummy, sword scything through the air and cutting into defenseless cloth and straw. She flows from one position to another, handling the weapon nearly as long as she is tall as if it were nothing but a sheaf of grain, flowing with a spring-coil grace, always poised to move, as if she might explode forwards at any moment but until then she will be utterly, unfailingly precise.

“Um,” says Keyleth.

Kima twists around, decapitating her stuffed opponent and sheathing the sword in one smooth motion. The head falls to the ground, a cloud of dirt and dust puffing up as its baleful button eyes stare up at the scudding clouds. Kima kicks a handful of straw back in the general direction of the dummy. The thing droops sadly in the middle of the yard, spilling its innards onto the cold dirt, and Kima dusts her hands together as she looks in Keyleth’s directions. Her expression brightens.

“Keyleth!”

“Kima! Hi!”

For a moment both are silent. Keyleth realizes she’s twisting her fingers together in front of her but she can’t seem to separate her hands. She glances away from Kima for a moment, scanning over the handful of guards running drills on the far side of the yard. Keyleth feels like something of a sore thumb, sticking out green and gold against the white and brown of the compound. Or a green thumb. The thought catches her and she half-drifts along with it. Kima clears her throat, a little awkward.

“Hi, Keyleth,” she tries again, and Keyleth snaps back.

“Yeah! Hi! I, um. Do you have a moment?” Her hands jump apart, flutter in the air as she points over her shoulder towards the gate, an invitation. “Maybe a walk? Or we could just talk. Um, somewhere else. Private. Do you know somewhere private?”

Kima’s eyebrows climb slowly as Keyleth’s mouth runs on, her mind half a step behind, and she snaps her lips closed, catching another handful of words as they try to tumble past. Breathe, think, speak. That’s what Percy says. But Percy always takes forever to say anything, measures each word with the patience required of books and statehood and short lives, and Keyleth has never been that good at stemming the storm-surge of her thoughts when they begin to spill.

She’s trying, though.

For her part, Kima considers the invitation, one hand resting heavy on the pommel of her sword.

“I was gonna go up to the castle for lunch,” she says finally, something that is not-quite a smile shifting across her face. More of a general warmth, and it pulls a smile from Keyleth to see Kima’s expression soften. “I’m supposed to meet Allie. Hang on a second? I’ll walk up with you.”

“Okay,” Keyleth says. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just, um. Wait here.”

“I’ll be right back,” Kima assures her, and her braid swings a sweeping arc when she turns around, stomping across the courtyard to gather her things from the far wall. She gathers her bag and peels off her gloves and scrapes her damp hair away from her face, leaving a smear of dust across her forehead. Keyleth untangles her hands and picks at the knotted mess of her thoughts as she waits. She tries rehearsing her question but she cannot seem to order the words right, so eventually she gives up in favor of braiding the fringe of her shirt into complicated patterns that unravel as soon as she lets them go.

“Right,” says Kima when she returns, bag over one shoulder, looking for all the world like she could be off on a grand quest instead of headed to lunch. She walks past Keyleth, feet barely slowing as she goes. Keyleth stumbles along behind her, taking a moment to find her footing. “So?”

“So,” Keyleth agrees, shortening her pace as she catches up to Kima. She towers over the woman, all narrow limbs and antlers, and Kima glances up and sidelong as Keyleth sets her thoughts in order, or the closest semblance of order she can manage. Her mind is always something of a garden: all semblance of sense merely a mask of the twisting warren of roots and vines and branches, full and bright but never quite neat. Sometimes she gets caught up in blossoms when she should be tending the roots; sometimes things grow crooked and in the wrong beds; sometimes the weeds of her fears choke everything out altogether.

But. No. She’s here for a reason, small and bright and kneeling in prayer, and she feels her face heat before she even broaches the subject. Kima waits, uncommonly patient, and Keyleth thanks her for it.

“Um.” She pushes her lips together, shakes her hair out of her face, and decides, _fuck it_. “You and Allura are like. You’re a thing.”

Kima’s eyebrows go up. “A thing?”

“Yeah. Like. You like her. She likes you. You call her Allie and, all, y’know, that stuff. You, uh, kissed her that one time, when–– I mean, I thought it was pretty clear you like each other, and like, I don’t know if maybe you’re y’know, married or something, but––”

“No,” Kima interrupts, brusque but amused. “No, we’re not married. Not yet, at least.” Her face does that thing again where it gets a little bit soft. “But yeah, Allie and I are together.”

“Right.” Keyleth nods, mostly to herself. “Okay. So. How did you know?”

Kima’s pace stutters. “What?”

Keyleth pauses, turns to stare at Kima. “I mean. How did you know you liked. Y’know. Her. Instead of someone else. I mean I know people just do sometimes and that’s fine and everything but how did you... How did you know?”

She runs out of steam by the end of it, words fading away, caught by the sharp breeze that gathers in the mountain valley. Kima’s head tilts slightly as she thinks, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. Keyleth waits silently, breath tight with anticipation.

“I dunno,” Kima decides finally, and Keyleth deflates. “I mean, Allie was a right pain in the ass when we met. But, she’s Allie. I just, I dunno. Got to know her. And I liked her. She makes me happy. Really happy. And I make her happy too, I think, and we make it work.”

“Right,” Keyleth mumbles, just as confused, just as curious, just as caught within her circling thoughts. “Okay. So it wasn’t like, different?”

“Than what?”

“Liking guys, I guess?”

Kima’s face shifts almost imperceptibly, breathing out slowly. “Keyleth,” she says. “Are you trying to tell me you like girls?”

Keyleth’s hands wave in front of her, as if they could untangle the mess of her thoughts. Kima watches without offering commentary.

“Not all girls,” says Keyleth eventually. “And, not just girls? But some of them. I don’t know what it means. Is that weird?”

“No,” says Kima immediately. “No, it’s not weird at all.” She hesitates a moment, chewing on her words in consideration, offering them slowly when they come. “Uh. It’s okay, y’know? Not knowing. That’s okay. You don’t have to know.”

“Oh,” says Keyleth, and it’s such a little thing but she feels that such a tremendous weight has been lifted off her. “Oh, okay. I just wasn’t sure. I’m kind of new at this.”

“Learning is a lot of fun,” Kima smirks, moving again. “Trust me.”

Keyleth splutters behind her, and Kima’s laugh drifts away on the breeze, Kima moving with it. Then Keyleth realizes she’s falling behind and stumbles to catch up.

Kima waits for Keyleth to fall into step before she speaks again, quieter than she usually sounds. “It’s really not different.”

“Huh?”

“Liking girls. It’s not that different from liking anyone else. I mean, liking _anyone_ is different, but in the grand scheme of things it’s no big deal. Girls, guys, folk who don’t know, folk who are either, or both, or neither. You like who you like, Keyleth. Doesn’t always make things better, but it’s not worse either.”

“And you just knew?”

“Yeah,” Kima huffs, and when Keyleth looks down her face has gone all soft again, gaze far away and fond, and Keyleth feels a gentle sort of ache in her chest. “Yeah, I just knew. It’s Allie, y’know? It’s always Allie.”

“Right,” says Keyleth, and she feels it now, understands the warmth and the caution and the care. She knows that softness. “Right, yeah. Okay. Cool.”

“Yeah?” asks Kima, crooked smile blooming across her face, and Keyleth sprouts one to match it, a little shy but also sure.

“Yeah,” she nods, hair brushing across her jaw.

“Cool,” echoes Kima, and she bumps Keyleth’s hip as they wander up the road. “So you gonna tell me who the lucky girl is, or should I guess?”

Keyleth doesn’t even bother trying to play coy; her words trip over each other on the way out. “Pike. It’s Pike.”

Kima grins. “She’s a good woman. Inside and out.”

“Yeah,” Keyleth agrees, eyes drifting towards the solid, simple temple that has sprung up in these past few months of fear and bloodshed, a place of healing and hope among it all, and Pike at the center, its beating heart. “Yeah, she is.”

Kima looks up at her, then follows her gaze and shakes here head.

“Ah, to be young again,” she mutters, and Keyleth giggles, and together they walk back up to Whitestone castle.


End file.
